


unwanted pets and the right kind of friends

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Phone Sex, Rimming, also co-starring lebron james as a turtle and honorary member of the family, eleanor knows what's up, it's implied that they're all in uni but no one seems to go to school, louis just fucks a lot, niall and harry are louis' ridiculous friends and liam is just zayn's roommate, zayn is a poet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 02:25:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3750961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the only things stopping louis from getting laid are his friends and a turtle named Lebron (and maybe his own feelings). </p><p>or </p><p>four times louis and zayn fail to have sex and the one time they do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	unwanted pets and the right kind of friends

[one]

 

Zayn’s got a blonde streak in his hair and Louis thinks he’s hit the jackpot.

The common trait between all of Louis’ sexual partners leading up to meeting Zayn is this: they are all science majors. He doesn’t mean to generalise, but if ten out of ten of the science majors he’s fucked are all whipped and get too emotional during sex, then it’s fair enough to reject every single person who majors in some sort of science when they compliment the curve of Louis’ ass. The last science major he dismissed was a guy named Nick, who literally and quite invasively compared his ass to the curve of a parabola. Louis does not like ass compliments that force him to think, nor did he like it when Nick pushed him up against a wall and asked, “Can I call you Brad?”

And no, Louis was not going to let some wimpy science major call him Brad when he sucks him off, because Louis had an ex-boyfriend named Brad, who, quite fittingly, majored in biochemistry and screamed the name ‘Alexandra’ when he came.

This is why Louis completely embraces the window of opportunity that opens itself when he meets Zayn, a reclusive art history major that performs slam poetry in his spare time and draws daisies in the margins of his notebooks. And this is why he’s pissed when they end up outside of his apartment, Zayn against the front door as Louis simultaneously struggles inserting his keys into the lock while making a pretty purple mark on Zayn’s neck, and finally stumble inside Louis’ apartment to suddenly be under the watchful eyes of Louis’ roommates and a—turtle?

“The fuck is this?” Louis asks, one hand still shoved down Zayn’s pants when he angles his body to stare at the aquatic creature dominating the centre of his living room.

“I found him,” Niall says.

“ _We_ found him,” Harry corrects.

“I don’t care who found him. I want to know why there is a turtle the size of a small nation in my living room,” Louis says.

“It’s really not that big,” Harry says.

Harry is right, but even so, Louis is very, very disconcerted. He feels the imminence of an orgasm so good that it’s almost fatal fleeing him. His cock has already gone soft and so has Zayn’s, so he retracts his hand from Zayn’s pants and just resumes being very disconcerted and, also, mildly homicidal because of the presence of the turtle.

“It’s wearing a hat,” Zayn points out.

Niall grins. “Yes. It’s a Miami hat. His name’s Lebron.”

“But isn’t Lebron back with the Cavaliers?” Zayn asks, and Louis wants to kiss him on the cheek for not being repelled by the flagrant stupidity of his friends, stupidity of which at the moment is making him look bad.

“I don’t actually know. I don’t care that much for basketball,” Niall says.

“I thought we were gonna name it Madonna?” Harry asks. And then it becomes too much.

“We are not going to house a turtle. Besides, it’s against apartment policy. Get rid of it,” Louis says.

Zayn accepts Louis’ invitation to spend the night. Unfortunately, ‘spend the night’ does not entail any cocks up any asses, and only involves sleeping on opposite ends of the bed. Louis gets hard in the middle of the night and has to beat off in the bathroom for an hour.

The next morning the turtle is still where it’s not supposed to be—in Louis’ presence, that is. He spends the first ten minutes of being awake stirring his tea and staring at the turtle. Soon Niall is up yapping about turtle care and Harry joins in an hour later.

“The turtle needs to go,” Louis chimes in for the fourth fucking time, his tea cold, his mood permanently dampened. He hasn’t had sex yet, which is sad, because there is a willing participant already situated in his bed. But they can’t fuck yet because his roommates have enough stupidity to share with the rest of the human population.

“Listen,” Harry says. “Just listen to me. Is it even a turtle? Or is it a tortoise?”

“What’s the bloody difference?” Niall says.

This conversation goes on for longer than it has to, so Louis retreats back to his bedroom with his cold tea and collapses onto his bed. Except his face doesn’t hit the mattress, but something hard like a cranium, and he leans back hissing with the pain.

“Louis?” Zayn asks, face peaking from underneath the covers.

“Sorry. You rolled onto my side of the bed.”

“It’s alright. Your friends are loud.”

Louis sighs. “I know.”

Then Zayn says, “We could be louder.”

Zayn moves on top of Louis, kissing his shoulder blades, sucking his nipples, and licking his way from Louis’ belly to his cock, which he takes into his mouth in such a languid motion that Louis almost comes just from the fact that he’s finally got someone’s mouth on his cock. It is so spontaneous and a lot to take in—and Louis _loves_ it. Zayn slumps Louis’ legs over his shoulders, lets his cock detach from his mouth with a pop, and says, “You ever let anyone eat this ass, sweetheart?”

Zayn, the relentless fuck, doesn’t even allow Louis to verbally respond, just flips him over face down against his pillow and buries his face between his ass cheeks. Louis wants to cry over the tongue taking control of his ass and cries, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”

And he knows Zayn is going to fuck him. When he’s done treating that ass with his mouth he’s going to treat him so well with his cock, the one he’d sucked in an alleyway before they got home the night before, and Louis’ going to come after so many months of not being satisfied by over-emotional science majors and he could _cry_ —

“LOUIS!”

Zayn’s tongue is no longer on his ass. Perhaps more distressing, the door is open.

“Ew,” Niall says. “Anyway, Louis, I did something you won’t like.”

Louis wants to suffocate himself with his pillow, but Zayn brings him up by hooking an arm around his neck and pressing him against his chest. “Go on then, babe,” Zayn says, pecking his temple, and Louis is livid because this motherfucker is doing this on purpose. Louis heads outside with no doubt in his mind that he’s going to be angry.

His living room floor is wet.

Sensing Louis’ impending anger, Niall says, “We tried spraying him with a hose.”

“Excellent,” Louis says. “Now the carpet is wet. Excellent. Ace idea, Niall.”

“It was Harry’s idea,” Niall says.

“It was not,” Harry says.

The argument goes on for longer than it has to.

 

 

 

 

[two]

 

The first "date" they go on involves other people, but neither of them really mind. Zayn insists that Louis join him and his roommate Liam for a movie night. Louis thinks this is the best possible idea to be conceived in the history of ideas, because it means that there’s no avenue in which Niall, Harry or the new fucking addition to the family, Lebron, can embarrass Louis any further.

(After, of course, the following things that the idiot duo have already managed to do in order to make Louis feel embarrassed, which includes:

-      Prematurely informing Zayn that Louis used to work for a sex hotline

-      Revealing that Louis is a collector. But not a normal collector. He collects novelty dildos.

-      Niall and Harry having a ‘who can pee into this bowl on the ground floor from our balcony most accurately’ competition while Louis’ trying to suck Zayn off on the couch

-      Niall and Harry re-enacting the fight scene between Obi Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker using Louis’ novelty dildos in an effort to prove to Zayn that they know a little bit about fight choreography)

Zayn’s roommate, Liam, is—to Louis’ fortune—a normal person who wears a batman apron while he cooks and doesn’t attempt to domesticate animals that are far beyond domestication.

Movie night is a tame affair up until Michael Cera dies in This Is The End and Zayn thinks it’s the most opportune moment to slip his hand in Louis’ pants and rub his cock through his underwear.

Louis looks at him and Zayn does nothing, just hides his face in Louis’ neck and starts licking him there while he rubs his cock harder. They’re fine, because their legs are shielded by a trusty blanket and Louis is good at being quiet when he knows he’s in good hands. He spreads his legs a little wider and tilts his head backwards even more so Zayn can leave marks all over it. Zayn’s hand finally slips inside Louis’ boxers and grabs his cock firmly, pumping it slowly and Louis doesn’t think he can hold out any longer. He moans, but he manages to make it seem like an exasperated sigh halfway through and no one thinks anything of it.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Louis says and gets up quickly before his cock can wack anyone in the face.

He’s in the bathroom by himself for a while until Zayn comes in and presses him against the sink, his own hard cock being snuggled between Louis’ clothed ass cheeks.

“You’re so naughty, Louis,” Zayn says against his neck, biting him there. “You let boys touch you like this every movie night?”

“Nuh uh,” Louis says, sucking on Zayn’s finger when he brings it to his mouth. He’s not lying. He _used_ to let any boy try to get with him back when they hosted movie night, but that was before he had a bad encounter with a guy named Greg who tried to jack him off during The Notebook, but ended up bawling his eyes out just before Louis could come.

After the hunt for lube after which Zayn quickly slicks himself up, he pushes both their pants down and slides his cock over Louis’ hole. “Fuck,” he says.

“Yeah. Fuck me,” Louis says.

Zayn’s lining the tip against his hole when there’s a knock on the door.

“Um, Louis, there is someone named Niall here to see you,” Liam says.

 _Of course_ Niall has to see him at this very moment. Of course this is a thing that has to happen. Of _course_ Zayn can’t fuck him tonight.

When Louis goes to the front door with a deflating erection to see what the matter is, Niall says, “I think Lebron is dead.”

 

 

 

 

[three]

 

Louis hates psych majors because they think they know everything. This is why he hates Eleanor. Except it isn’t so much the psych major thing that he hates. It’s more that Eleanor is actually right one hundred per cent of the time.

“So it’s a sex thing?” Eleanor asks. Louis’ trying to enjoy Real Housewives, but Eleanor keeps talking about Zayn. And Louis likes to talk about Zayn.

“Yes it is.”

“How long have you guys known each other?”

“I don’t know. Three months. We haven’t had sex.”

“Oh no,” she says.

“Why?”

“You guys aren’t even fucking and you’re sticking around?”

Louis shrugs. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Louis,” she says gravely. “This is, like, dating.”

Louis fake gags. “Um. Ew.”

“But it’s true!” she says. “Who hangs out with someone you only want to fuck? It means you value them as a person.”

Louis covers his ears. “No no no shut up. Enjoy reality television like every other lowlife you know.”

It’s not that they’re dating. Zayn and Louis like to do things together. They like making breakfast together. Zayn likes ditching lectures with Louis to go to an amusement park on a Wednesday. Louis likes watching Zayn speak his poetry. They’re both very fond of oral sex. It’s just—there are _things_ , you see. Things that stop Louis and Zayn from having sex. It’s not entirely their fault. It’s not like Louis’ not having sex with other people either on purpose. It’s just—other people don’t want to have sex with him at the moment.

 

 

 

 

Louis lights candles around his room the next time he invites Zayn over. Niall and Harry have promised to be on their best behaviour. They’re nursing Lebron back to health and have designated a section for him in the living room. Louis has long since accepted that Lebron is treated as more of a member of the gang than himself, but that’s okay. He’s going to have sex with Zayn Malik tonight and after that he can finally live life peacefully.

Louis all but jumps Zayn the moment he’s through the door, not caring that there’s an audience (“not in front of Lebron, Louis!”). He’s a bit nervous, which is very uncharacteristic of him, because he knows he’s good at sex, knows he gives mean head and rides dick with such skill that it’s considerably unfathomable as to how he can even do it, and these nerves almost become visible when he hears Zayn chuckling as he’s got him pinned against the door.

“What?” he asks and hides his blushing face in Zayn’s neck, still kissing him there.

“You lit candles.”

“Oh—the lights were out earlier,” he lies

Louis is not actually sure as to why he made the extra effort and feels a bit bad about it until Zayn says, “I like that. It’s cute.”

Louis smirks, he _is_ very cute. “I’m a lot cuter when I’m sucking your dick,” Louis says.

“I agree,” Zayn says.

Louis gives Zayn a bruising kiss, taking his bottom lip between his teeth before having him sit on the edge of the bed. His hands are a bit shaky while unbuttoning Zayn’s pants from sheer excitement, he can never get over what a great cock he’s packing, and he moans when he takes it into his hand, hot and thick, and he basks in the glory of hearing Zayn moan when he puts his lips on it.

He flattens his tongue against his shaft as he sucks hard at the head, hands behind his back like a good boy—because after a couple of hundred blowjobs he knows what Zayn prefers. Zayn likes pure mouth action, but sometimes he’ll pump himself while Louis licks him and kisses the tip.

He goes down further, taking half of it in before going back up to the tip, then does it again, and does it a few more times before taking Zayn all the way down, tip pressing against the back of his throat, and holds still for a few seconds before completely taking his mouth of off his cock. He licks his lips and Zayn wipes off a bit of spit with his thumb.

“You’re amazing,” he sighs and brings Louis up for a kiss.

They get on the bed together, shirtless and their cocks out. Louis is completely pinned underneath Zayn, his hands above his head.

“Tell me what you want, Louis,” Zayn whispers against his ear.

“Want you to fuck me.”

“Mhm? And.”

“Want you to fuck me hard.”

“What else do you want from me?”

Louis laughs, hates that Zayn is making him wait. But then Zayn asks the question again and he realises that it’s not of the rhetorical kind, that Zayn’s actually expecting an answer, and Louis’ not entirely sure what else he wants aside from Zayn inside of him. But eventually he stops kissing Louis right before he gets up to his nipples, which Louis had hoped he would pay special attention to, and Zayn’s rolling over to sit back on his heels. His cock is still poking out of the slit of his boxers.

“Seriously?” Zayn asks.

Louis leans on his elbow, other hand idly stroking himself off. “Um—yes? I want you to fuck me.” Zayn’s not even looking at his cock, so he stops jerking himself off. “I’m sorry is there a wrong answer to this question? Am I being quizzed? Am I going to be graded after I take your dick?”

Zayn shakes his head and starts doing up his pants.

“What are you doing?” Louis asks, starting to get a little panicked that he’d hurt his feelings by displaying how cock-thirsty he is.

“I’m gonna go home. Sorry I’m not in the mood.”

Louis grabs his arm before he tries to reach for the door knob. “Don’t you want to fuck me?” Louis asks.

Zayn turns around and Louis’ a bit scared of how angry he looks. “After like, what, months of not being able to? Yeah. I do.”

“Well it’s not like it’s always been my fault we haven’t been able to have sex,” Louis reasons. “It’s not always my fault.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to say. I’ve been—waiting.”

“Waiting? For what? I’ve been a willing candidate for your dick treatment since the first time we fucking met,” Louis says.

“Not just that. Every time we meet you’re always trying to get in my pants.”

Louis is—befuddled, to say the least. And he feels awkward standing there with his softening cock still presenting itself, so he tucks it back into his boxers and starts getting dressed too while still talking. “Hold on. So you’re mad that we haven’t had sex but you’re also mad at the fact that I am always willing to give it to you? That makes no sense. You know that right?”

“No. I am mad because that’s all you want and that people were right about you,” Zayn says.

“What? What people? Who’s talking shit?” he demands. Zayn groans and walks out the door and just—no. Louis is not done with this conversation, so he follows him out and pulls him back again before he can properly leave. “Hold on now. Explain to me why you’re mad.”

“I’m mad because everyone told me that all you cared about was sex and I didn’t listen to them. But I should’ve.”

“Excuse the fuck out of me, Zayn Malik. But there is nothing wrong with me just wanting sex. Don’t be mad at me because you fell for the wrong fucking person.”

Zayn doesn’t even respond, just walks out the front door and slams it. The impact of the slam is so hard that it causes a painting to fall off the wall.

“Wow,” Niall and Harry say simultaneously.

“Shut up,” Louis says, then goes back to his room and blows the candles out before they burn the fucking apartment down.

 

 

 

 

[four]

 

Louis wonders how he ended up on his kitchen floor with light vanilla ice cream in his lap and fuzzy striped socks on, but alas, here he is. Actually, he remembers very vividly how he ended up here. He’d been out with Niall and Harry as their joint plus-one to a party and it had been a good time until he’d picked up a nice bloke and tried to have his brains fucked out. Except he couldn’t do it, and the guy accused him of being a prude and went to shag someone else. But it’s not even that. It’s that Louis saw Zayn at the same party and his heart did a weird backflip thing in his chest and he started feeling sad that Zayn had looked at him and turned away quickly as if it were an accident. And it depressed him even more that Zayn seemed to be not looking his direction on purpose.

So Louis clocked in early for the night and became acquainted with a litre and a half of ice cream and socks that never fail to keep his feet warm.

It’s not that Louis is _denying_ that he has feelings for Zayn Malik. It’s more that he can’t believe how he even let this happen. First he was enamoured with the way words fell out of his mouth, sounding as soothing as waves crashing against the sand, and now he’s eating ice cream feeling jilted out of a scene of a movie and— _god_ —he wants to _call_ Zayn Malik and ask about how his day’s been.

Then he remembers all the other times why he and Zayn couldn’t have sex. He remembers taking him into his bedroom countless times ready to have sex, but then Zayn would open his mouth and by the end of their conversation Louis could recite everything one needed to know about Zayn Malik. And sometimes they’d be over at Zayn’s place and they’d watch movies together without trying to touch each other under the blankets. And—god—he and Zayn had practically been _dating_. And most importantly, Louis had _liked_ it.

Eventually he gets tragic-romantic about it and gets himself drunk so he can have something to fall back on when the impulse strikes to call Zayn. It makes Louis cry and laugh at the same time, because he _memorised_ his number. Because they used to talk on the phone together all the time and— _god_ —it is all so _sad_.

“Hello?” Zayn answers, voice of the gods.

“You picked up,” Louis says.

“Sorry did you not want me to? Let me just hang up then.”

“No wait.” Louis actually takes a step forward and holds an arm out as if Zayn were physically in front of him trying to leave. “Don’t go. I missed your voice.”

“Did you really?”

“I really did. I just—how was your day?” Louis asks, swirling his glass of wine in his hand.

“You want to know how my day was?” Zayn says.

“I believe that’s what the question was.” He’s a bit sassy when he’s drunk, but that’s okay. He’s sassy even when he’s sober.

“My day was fine. Also—you looked nice at that party.”

“Mhm. Thank you. You looked edible.”

“Edible?”

Louis shouldn’t have had that entire second bottle of wine. But oh well. “Yes. Like a cake.”

It’s much too late into the evening to be this drunk and comparing Zayn Malik to a cake. Speaking of which, some cake would go well with this ice cream that has completely melted in his lap. It was already soft the moment he took it out of the fridge—also, they need a new fridge. But they can’t afford a new fridge at this point because the caretaking and nurturing of a turtle is a twenty-four hour, seven days a week job that is also unpredictably expensive. Then Louis contemplates that this isn’t really the problem. He needs better friends. Or maybe _that’s_ not even the problem. He needs to stop thinking about Zayn Malik.

“Louis? You there?” Zayn asks. Oh right. They’re still on the phone together.

“Oh—yes. Yes I’m here.”

“What are you wearing?”

Louis laughs out loud, wine spilling out of his glass. “I’m wearing—“ He looks down at himself. He’s wearing a stained shirt and basketball shorts complemented by fuzzy socks. “Socks,” he eventually says.

“Is that all?” Zayn says. His voice is starting to get lower, suggestive, and Louis’ starting to think that, yes, he likes where this is going.

“If that’s what you want. What are you thinking about?”

“Me? Oh, not much. Just about how I want to take off all my clothes for you right now.” Louis slides his hands down his shorts, palming himself.

“Mhm. Want you to take your clothes off, babe.”

Louis is about to cry because _yes_ , this is good. This is spontaneous and this is good. He abandons the ice cream and wine, removes his shirt and pulls his shorts down, keeping his socks on. He feels a bit dirty about wanting to do this on his kitchen floor, but fuck it.

“Are you touching yourself?” Zayn asks, voice low.

“Mhm.”

“Did I say you could?” _No_ , Louis thinks. He’s being a bad boy. “Take your hand off your dick.” Louis does. “What are you thinking about?”

Louis whimpers, his cock growing hard.

“Words, Louis.”

“Thinking about your cock. About how I want you to fuck my throat. I wanna get your dick wet enough to fuck me without lube.”

Zayn groans and there’s a bit of rustling on the other end of line. Then it goes quiet. Louis is starting to get harder over the idea that Zayn is still over at that party and has now tucked himself away in a linen closet or something, growing hard and wanting to hide it from everyone.

“Put your fingers in your mouth,” Zayn says after a while. Louis is good, so he does what Zayn says, pretending they’re his fingers that are going to open him up real good and stretch him wide enough for his cock. His thick, heavy cock that Louis wishes was actually in his mouth. “Stroke yourself.”

Louis moans and brings his hand to his cock, still sucking on his fingers.

“Do you know what I’d be doing to you right now, Louis?” Zayn asks. Louis whimpers in response. “I’d replace those fingers in your mouth with my cock and I’d have you get it all wet. That’s what you want right?” Louis nods, stroking himself faster. “I’d shove your face down on my cock and have you hold it there, taking it deep. I love it when your throat tightens around me. Feels so fucking good, baby. At this point I bet you’d beg me to fuck you. Shit, you wouldn’t even bother with the lube.”

Louis gasps, because he’s right. Sometimes he gets so desperate.

“I’d have you lie face down on the bed, ass up, and I’d lick into your hole first before I’d fuck you. You’d want that wouldn’t you?”

“Yes yes yes,” Louis gasps, pumping harder, faster.

“I’d have you writhing against my face while I tongue-fuck you so good. I’d have you like this till you crying, begging for my cock. Do you know how good I’d fuck you, Louis? God, you’d be _screaming_ , babe. I’d fuck you slow at first, make you feel every inch of my cock, then I’d give it to you how you’d want it. Hard and fast. Fucking you into the bed while you bite the pillow to stop yourself from screaming. But I’d like it if you were loud. You close?”

Yes, he is close. He feels his orgasm building up, the feeling intensifying. Then Zayn says _goodbye Louis_ and hangs up.

Louis screams with his orgasm, come spurting onto his chest, and he screams because the feeling is so good, but also because Zayn just fucking hung up on him. And what the actual _fuck_?

Conveniently just moments after, Niall and Harry burst through the front door, Niall with a feathery scarf around his neck on a skateboard downing a bottle of beer while Harry performs a terrible rendition of some Whitney Houston song. Then they notice Louis covered in come and all.

“Ugh! Sick, Louis,” Niall says and goes to pet Lebron.

And Louis can’t believe that he is _crying_. Of all things he decides to do—things that could include covering himself up and putting his clothes on—he decides to _cry_. Harry puts the ice cream and wine away and helps Louis into his room, wiping come off of him.

“I am so obviously the better friend,” Harry says, kissing Louis on the forehead when he tucks him in, blanket up to his neck.

 

 

 

 

[five]

 

Louis is actively trying to avoid Zayn for what he did. But with all honesty he’s not doing the greatest job at doing so, because when Eleanor invites the three of them to hang out one night at a café to watch a bunch of people do spoken word poetry, Louis says yes before she can even finish speaking. He hates himself for being excited, but this is the café that he first met Zayn at, the first time he let himself be hypnotised by the velvety smoothness that was his voice. So really, he’s not avoiding Zayn. He’s just kind of waiting for him to call and show up at his apartment unannounced to sweep him off of his feet.

“You really like this Zayn guy don’t you?” Niall asks when they get there. Of course Niall has to ask him a stupid question.

“I like his hair,” Louis says. It’s stupid, because that statement alone roughly translates to _yes, I am completely infatuated with this stupid boy, seeing as I think about his hair more than I think about taking his dick._

Eleanor keeps giving Louis a look when the poets start coming on stage and it’s irritating because she’s waiting for Louis to tell her _you’re right, I have a crush_. Meanwhile she’s just dying to tell him the dreaded _I told you so_.

Basically, Louis could use a better group of friends.  

Eleanor is right, though, is the thing. Because the moment Zayn comes up on stage Louis abandons the bowl of peanuts he’d been miserably picking at to stare at Zayn with glowing eyes and bask in the glory of his presence. Louis can feel the air change, as if time itself has stopped to appreciate the god amongst mortals that is Zayn Malik.

Louis feels disgusting.

“He’s so smitten,” he hears Harry tell Niall. Louis wants to start a brawl and this is all due to the sheer amount of emotions he’s feeling. He’s never usually the emotionally-invested one. He thinks back to all those science majors who’ve tried to fuck him over the past two years—the ones who screamed their exes names when they came—and Louis thinks that he’s on the fast track to becoming them as well.

Louis is smitten. He is very smitten. He claps and cheers the loudest during Zayn’s poetry and afterwards. They make eye contact before he leaves and, _god_ , Louis is so smitten.

“Can you believe that I’ve had that cock in my mouth,” Louis’ telling them when all the poets are done and there’s soft music playing over the speakers.

“Yeah, but you haven’t had it up your ass,” Eleanor says.

“Shush you. No one asked.”

 

 

 

 

Louis will never tell anyone that he’s got a bit of a soft spot for romantic gestures, so he tries not to react too obnoxiously when they get home and find Zayn sitting by their front door. They invite him inside, Louis offering Zayn a drink and some food like he probably should’ve done the first time they met instead of smashing their mouths together.  

Louis’ sitting on the edge of his bed and watches as Zayn paces around his room. There are many things to address, but neither of them are sure of where to begin. So Louis says, “You want to date me.”

Zayn stops pacing. “I do.”

Louis just nods, humming approvingly. “Interesting.”

“But you only want me for sex,” Zayn says questionably.

“No. Wouldn’t say that.”

“So you want to date me too?”

Louis shrugs. “I’m open to the idea.”

Louis doesn’t expect Zayn to suddenly be on top of him, pushing him onto the bed and pinning his arms above his head, but that’s what he does.

“I suppose we should have sex and see where that takes us.”

Louis grins. This boy is unbelievable.

Zayn kisses him, soft and gentle, though his grip on Louis’ arms are tightening. His hands go to slide under Louis’ shirt and thumb his nipples, sucking bruises onto his neck. They sit up to take each other’s shirts off. Zayn pushes Louis back farther along the bed, kissing, licking and biting his way down his stomach. He licks and bites along Louis’ pelvis then eases his pants and boxers down in one go.

“You are unbelievably gorgeous,” Zayn says, sitting up and taking his time to take in Louis’ body.

Louis blushes, not used to being complimented so tenderly in bed before.

Zayn licks down towards his cock, licks from the tip of it down to his balls, then tongues at his hole.

“Oh god,” Louis moans, fisting his hair.

Zayn grabs onto his thighs and forces Louis to fold over, legs still hooked over Zayn’s shoulders as he buries himself between Louis’ firm ass cheeks, sucking and licking hungrily at his hole. Zayn’s got his hand on Louis’ cock too and Louis thinks that he is _so_ lucky that Zayn is so very good at treating him right.

Zayn stops and takes his own pants and boxers off. Louis crawls towards where he kneels and takes his cock into his mouth. Zayn groans, cursing under his breath when Louis takes him all the way down. He kisses and licks up and down his shaft, wanting to get it wet, remembering how much his mouth had watered thinking about doing this when he’d called Zayn some nights ago.

“Where’s your lube?” Zayn asks, pulling Louis gently off of his cock.

“Drawer.”

Indeed it is there. Zayn lubes his cock up while fingering Louis’ hole. He kisses Louis gently on the lips before flipping him over and spreading his knees apart, ass in the air.

“Best ass I’ve ever seen,” Zayn whispers against the back of Louis’ neck, moving closer and pressing his cock against his hole. Louis feels his precome dripping against his skin and he pushes back against Zayn’s cock eagerly. Zayn keeps rubbing himself against his hole, teasing him.

When he finally pushes in they both gasp, Louis fisting the sheets. Zayn goes in slow and Louis feels like he’s keeping a promise that he never explicitly made. _I’d fuck you slow at first, making you feel every inch of my cock._ He thrusts in slowly and Louis does feel it, loves the way Zayn’s cock stretches him open. Zayn takes both Louis’ hands and holds them behind his back as he starts getting faster, gradually, until he’s thrusting into him deep and hard.

Soon Zayn’s fucking him hard and fast. He holds Louis up and presses his back to his chest, hand around his neck and whispering filthy things into his ear.

“You look so good taking this dick, baby,” Zayn says, thrusting particularly hard and hitting his prostate dead-on.

Louis keeps arching, Zayn hammering into his ass and sucking marks everywhere his lips meet his body, making his skin burn with every kiss.

Zayn pulls out and forces Louis to turn around, grabbing his face and kissing him. It’s sloppy and desperate, Louis grabbing both their cocks to stroke them off. He ends up in Zayn’s lap, riding him and moaning shamelessly, momentarily forgetting about his roommates in the next room. He feels so lucky to be riding this cock, taking it so well, and making Zayn groan as he takes Louis’ nipples in his mouth and between his teeth.

“I’m close,” Louis says, hands pulling Zayn’s hair.

Zayn suddenly grabs the base of Louis’ cock and says, “No.”

Louis almost screams, feels his orgasm basically about to burst through him, making him shaky. Zayn starts thrusting upwards to meet his bounces, his balls slapping against his ass cheeks.

“Say you’ll date me,” Zayn says.

Louis thinks, in a brief lapse of sanity and coherence, _oh my fucking god_. “Are you serious?” Louis asks. Zayn’s hand tightens around his cock and he stops thrusting.

“Say you wanna date me,” Zayn says.

“Fu—fuck yes! I want to fucking date you.”

Zayn smiles but doesn’t let up. “Ask me out on a date then.”

Louis gasps, both in frustration over this stupid boy and his stupid demands and because he just really wants to come. This is ridiculous. _Zayn_ is the one who fucking hung up on him in the middle of phone sex. _He_ should be the one asking him out on a date. He should be the one to let him come right this very moment.

“You won’t come if you don’t ask me out on a date,” Zayn says.

“Oh my god—fuck. Fine. Zayn, will you go out on a date with me?”

Zayn smirks and kisses him gently below his neck. “I would love to, Louis Tomlinson.”

He forces Louis back down against the bed and starts ramming him hard. Louis comes almost immediately after he lets go of his cock. Zayn comes inside him soon afterwards, falling on top of him, panting.

“Get out of me,” Louis says.

“Give me a minute.”

Louis nudges him. Then nudges him again. He keeps nudging him until he has the courtesy to pull out, causing the come to start leaking out of his ass. He’ll have to change the bed sheets.

“You have quite a way of getting what you want,” Louis says once they’ve relaxed.

“Mhm.” Zayn kisses his neck idly as Louis runs his fingers through his hair.

“Just know that I’m poor so if you’re expecting me to take you to fancy restaurants it’s not gonna happen,” Louis says.

“Fine with me. McDonalds date it is then,” Zayn says.

Louis grins. 

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://zaynsexpensivehaircut.tumblr.com)   
> 


End file.
